


prewritten vows

by duckmoles



Category: Marvel
Genre: Angst, Brain Damage, Divorce, Heavy Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckmoles/pseuds/duckmoles
Summary: "Steve," Tony says in one of his few lucid moments, voice achingly calm and steady."Steve," Tony says again, and when Steve looks up from where he's readjusting Tony's sheets, fluffing his pillows, making sure Tony’s comfortable, he looks Steve in the eye and says, "I want a divorce."





	prewritten vows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TinyFuryCloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyFuryCloud/gifts).



> (this is set in a vaguely 616-ish universe. very vaguely.)
> 
> for the stony bingo, square n4: "writing format: non-linear"

"Steve," Tony says in one of his few lucid moments, voice achingly calm and steady. "Steve."

Steve is by his side immediately, fussing over him, murmuring soft words of encouragement.

"Steve," Tony says again, and when Steve looks up from where he's readjusting Tony's sheets, fluffing his pillows, making sure Tony’s comfortable, he looks Steve in the eye and says, "I want a divorce."

-

Steve refuses at first, because he's Steve, and because sometimes Tony wakes up freshly engaged or newlywed and cooing over his fiancé, his husband, his boyfriend, his teammate, always trying to coax Steve into kissing him despite the oxygen mask that's over his mouth more often than not.

But the Tony that pushes himself up from the hospital bed, injured and utterly, painfully aware of his situation, wakes up and tells Steve he wants a divorce.

"This isn't just because I think you deserve someone else," Tony says. He doesn’t look up to meet Steve’s eyes. “It’s because I’m selfish. I don’t want the guilt of knowing that you have to – deal with me like this. It’s easier for me this way. I still love you.” He pauses. His hands go still from where they had been fiddling with the fabric of his hospital gown.

Steve waits, holding his breath.

Tony looks up, eyes wide and slightly confused. “Steve? What’re you doing here? I thought you were meeting with the caterers. The wedding won’t plan itself, after all.”

-

Steve tells himself that he only agrees to it because Tony wants it, that all he ever wanted was to make Tony happy.

He still wears his ring.

(The one time he didn’t, Tony was two years back in time, fresh off their first nasty argument after they got married. He’d cried, big heaving sobs and blubbering apologies, until Steve called Carol to get it for him. Steve had held Tony’s head to his chest, cradling him. By the time Carol arrived, Tony was ten years back, trying to explain why his bodyguard Iron Man was out of commission and couldn’t help the Avengers.

Steve put on the ring anyway.)

-

Tony wakes up. He’s in a hospital bed, he thinks. He can smell the antiseptic, feel the soft sheets of the hospital bed, hear the quiet hum of medical instruments. There are faint voices talking.

“…Not going to get better. You know this, Steve.”

Steve? What was Captain America doing in his hospital room? They weren’t close - not as Tony Stark and Steve Rogers anyway.

“…every angle?”

“They can’t figure it out. We’ve got…and Strange? Extremis…”

“Extremis…once.”

Their voices fade in and out. Tony becomes aware of the horrible pain coursing through his body, his pounding headache, the fact that his very skin feels like it’s burning. If he opens his eyes he thinks he might be blinded by the light. And he’s so, so tired. He wants to sleep for the next ten years.

Nothing new, then.

“…the doctors…treatment…”

It occurs to him that he doesn’t know why he’s in this hospital bed or what happened to him. He’s gotten blackout drunk more than a few times in his life, but this feels different. He remembers the day before clearly – he had locked himself in the lab working on the suit, then headed upstairs to sit with the other Avengers for a while in the armor before going to sleep. And now he’s in a hospital bed, injured, with Steve Rogers and a terrifyingly familiar voice talking about him.

Someone’s crying. Tony doesn’t know why.

“He asked. I couldn’t tell him no.”

Sleep is dragging him back under, and he lets it. Steve will figure this out. Tony trusts him.

-

“You got married? Why didn’t you tell me, Steve?”

Steve swallows heavily. “I,” he says, “I was. But it didn’t work out the way I had hoped.”

The smile disappears from Tony’s face. “And you’re still wearing the ring? Steve, whoever dumped you doesn’t deserve to have you still pining after them. There’s a lot of fish in the sea who’ll manage to properly appreciate you.”

 _Like you_ , Steve doesn’t say. _It was you. And I still love you. I can’t stop loving you. If I had to choose between reliving this a thousand times over and not having loved you at all, the choice is obvious. I’d choose you, every time._ It’s selfish, he knows.

What he says instead is, “Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, Tony.”

The corners of Tony’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. He’s growing older, the lines on his face growing more and more prominent. There’s streaks of grey in his hair. In a way, now they’re both men out of time.

“When did you start calling me ‘Tony?’”

-

Tony wakes up. It’s warm. His face is tucked into someone’s chest.

“Tony?” The voice is Steve’s, and Tony shifts slightly so that he can look up at Steve’s face, his clear blue eyes. He looks sad. Tony’s not sure why.

“Hey there, winghead,” Tony mumbles. “Is it time to get up yet?”

The steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest is a comfort. Tony aches, _hurts_ , but he’s used to pushing it aside. Instead he focuses on the feeling of Steve’s finger rubbing a slow circle into his back.

“No,” Steve says after a beat. “Go back to sleep, Tony. We have a little time before we have to get up.”

Oh. Oh. Tony’s lips curl up into a smirk. “A little time, huh?” he says, moving his leg up to press against Steve’s crotch.

He’s not sure why Steve’s entire attitude shifts at his words, why the gentle ease turns into cold stiffness. What had Tony done wrong? Steve’s hand pushes his leg back down. “You need the sleep, Tony. And there’s a long day ahead. Later.”

Steve moves a little so that he can cup Tony’s face and press their lips together. The stiffness fades away.

“Sleep, Tony,” he says. “We’ll talk a little more in the morning.”

Okay. In the morning, then. It’s not like either of them are going anywhere.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hap birthday to fury! 
> 
> thanks to [freyas](/users/FreyaS/pseuds/FreyaS) and [scarynoodles](/users/scarynoodles/pseuds/scarynoodles) for reading through, and thanks to [natcat](/users/nat_cat) for doing the same and putting up with my tony stark nonsense always. 
> 
> i'm on tumblr at [duckmoles](https://duckmoles.tumblr.com) and also wherever else applicable. i love angst.


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